


You're Late

by MsPooslie



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The First Avenger, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt Steve Rogers, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Old Peggy Carter, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 16:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18673720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPooslie/pseuds/MsPooslie
Summary: What if instead of the hot mess of a fake 1940's room, Steve wakes up in an obvious hospital room with elderly Peggy at his side?NOTE THE TAGS PLEASE





	You're Late

**Author's Note:**

> after re-watching CA:TFA in preparation for A4, i was re-disgusted/annoyed by the damned mess of an intro to the future that was arranged by SHIELD.   
> like wtf, nick fury?!  
> I felt it would have been a great chance to call back Peggy & Steve's "you're late" banter and then it sort of spiraled out from there. Also it sort of explains why even though Steve is pretty obviously miserable, lonely, and depressed he never tries to kill himself again.

Steve takes stock of the room before opens eyes. The smell of roses and Peggy’s perfume there’s soft music playing; jazz, but nothing he recognizes. 

He hears the turn of a page and blinks several times against the light before fully opening his eyes. 

“You’re late,” Peggy’s voice comes from his left and above him. It sounds strange. Maybe she’s been crying? He glances down, he’s in a hospital room, IV fluids in his arm.

“Sorry, Pegs, I know we had a date.” He tries to turn to face her but she’s raising the head of the bed and he can’t see her over the edge. “How long was I out?”

She reaches forward, patting his hand, “I’m afraid that’s just the thing, darling,” the sound of an electric motor and she comes into view. She’s still so beautiful, even with her white hair and tissue paper thin elderly skin. Here eyes still have that spark. “You were out for almost seventy years.”

Steve gapes at her, “what?”

“Sixty-six years, two months, and twelve days to be precise.”

Steve closes his eyes, gritting his teeth.

“Darling--”

“No, Pegs, just--” he bangs his fist into his knee, “not only did I not die, I ruined my entire life.”

“Oh, my dear sweet boy,” she takes his balled up hand in both of hers, easing his fingers open. “I know this is hard and I won’t try and tell you that it will all be good. But I will tell you that it can be okay. The ‘future’ is--”

“Okay?” he scoffs, “everyone I know is either dead or has lived an entire life without me!” 

At his raised voice, two armed guards enter the room. Peggy sighs, exasperated, “stand down!” when they hesitate she straightens her back and that old familiar steel is in her voice, “Stand. Down. Now.” They lower their weapons and back out of the room. “Apologies about that Steven, darling, they are concerned about you. Your mental and emotional state. They didn’t know what you would be like when you woke up. Luckily, I still have agents who are willing to call me in when necessary. I had to stop this harebrained scheme of a fake 1940’s era room with a baseball game from BEFORE the war on. It was awful.” 

Steve, who has calmed significantly, looks resigned, “after Bucky fell...” he shakes his head sighing heavily, “I wasn’t supposed to outlive anyone. I was supposed to die at six. Then again at fourteen. Then absolutely not make it to thirty. Bucky...he was always there, making sure I pulled through. For me to not be able to do the same....I just couldn’t do it anymore.” Peggy squeezes his hand. “It was probably selfish to give up but, Christ, I just wanted the pain to stop.” 

The truth of the crash, despite being what she had feared all these years, doesn’t hurt any less. “Darling boy, I am so sorry. I saw you hurting and thought that I could soothe it. I should have known it went deeper than I could have helped.”

“Oh Peggy, you were so...If he hadn’t...I don’t know what the future would have held but I did--I DO love you.”

“You just loved him more.”

He fights it but his face crumples like it did in that bombed out bar in London and suddenly he is crying. Great yowls of despondent pain like an animal tormented. He curls on the bed towards her and she shifts to cradle his head against her chest like a child, murmuring comfortingly and rocking slightly. As his tears slow to the occasional snuffle, she begins to hum a lullaby that she used with her children and grandchildren while petting his hair.

He eventually heaves a finally sniffle and sits up, wiping his eyes. “Sorry, Pegs.”

“Yes, well, no need to apologize. I am a widow myself.” She pets his hair one last time before straightening in her chair. “Darling, we do need to talk about what you have told me just now. About the crash. We cannot having you doing anything like that again.”

Steve scoffs, “Oh! Right, so I can put myself in another coma? Wake up in thirty more years?! Maybe we’ll finally have that damned flying car by then! No, thank you. I have learned that lesson. No. I’m not gonna try anything like that again.”

“Good. Well, take your time but when you are quite ready, we have a lot to catch you up on.” She gestures towards the frosted windows where several peoples’ shadows can be seen. 

He sighs, steeling himself, and nods, “might as well get on with it.”


End file.
